


Save Me

by SterekStilinski24



Series: Change [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Dying Stiles, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NO character deaths, slight angst, the bite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterekStilinski24/pseuds/SterekStilinski24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is dying.<br/>Derek makes a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was made to help me with artwork I've been wanting to do.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters. This is purely for fun and inspiration.

* * *

 

"Derek, please."

Stiles is leaning against a tree, palm resting against the arrow wound in his chest. 

He's desperate. He's in pain and he can't focus on anything except begging for Derek to see reason.

"Please," he whispers. Tears are beginning to make their way down his cheeks. He stumbles towards Derek. He wants to grab him and make him see sense. He wants to hold him while he still has life.

His legs give out and he waits for the ground to connect with his limp, weak body. He doesn't; he's met with hard flesh. Derek.

"I can't, Stiles."

Stiles breathes in Derek's scent. He tries to store the memory away, wants to savor it forever. Tears are soaking through Derek's shirt.

"Please," he begs. With his last breath, he whispers, "I don't want to die."

 

* * *

 

Stiles opens his eyes and is assaulted by bright lights and voices. Panicking, he looks around the room trying to make sense of where he is and how he got there. When he looks to his side, he sees Derek asleep, his head on Stiles' bed.

_Bed?_

Looking around more carefully, he's able to notice a familiar room. Why wouldn't he? He's definitely been here more than once. The hospital. Beside him, Derek stirs.

"Stiles?" he asks, sleepily.

Stiles turns to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Stiles, I'm sorry."

Confused, he asks, "Sorry for what?"

Derek looks at him sadly. Suddenly, what seemed like a distant dream, his memories flooded back from the previous night. He goes to reply, but Derek's already gone.

Stiles removes all medical attachments and makes a weak attempt to run out of the room.

"Derek!" he yells.

Derek, who was a bit down the hall, turns around. He marches towards Stiles and says, with concern, "Stiles, you shouldn't be out of bed." He ushers him back into the room and onto the bed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Derek, it's not your fault. Whatever you're thinking, I  _asked_ for this." Stiles is holding eye contact to make his point clear.

Derek looks away. "I shouldn't have done it."

Surprised by the regret in Derek's voice, Stiles asks, "Why did you, then?" Hurt coloring his tone.

"I wasn't going to," Derek begins, "but I panicked when your heartbeat slowed to a crawl." Derek sits on the bed next to Stiles and looks at him. "I couldn't lose you," he whispers.

Silence fills the air while Derek's words sink in. 

"Do you regret it?" Stiles asks, timidly.

"I did," Derek says, "but not anymore. Not after seeing you here, awake and breathing."

With a sigh of relief, Stiles nods. "Okay."

He yawns, feeling the weight of exhaustion.

"Rest, Stiles."

When Derek starts to get up, he grabs his hand and says, "Stay."

Derek looks at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Please," Stiles whispers.

Derek nods, "Okay. I'll be here when you wake up." At Stiles' hesitation to let go of his hand, he adds, "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Stiles, seemingly satisfied with that answer, allows sleep to consume him.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up to a warm body next to him and an arm around his waist.  _Derek._ For a moment, he panics. He can hear a heartbeat, assuming it's Derek's, and he can hear voices that aren't near him. It's all disorienting and frightening. 

As if sensing his distress, Derek wakes up.

"Stiles?" He rubs his eyes in an attempt to wake up. "What's wrong?"

"Voices," he croaks.

Derek, suddenly alert, grabs his hands. "Hey, it's okay. Focus on me, focus on my voice."

Stiles tries, he does, but it isn't helping. He can't focus on anything but the voices. He feels Derek grab his face and push it against his chest.

"Match your breathing with mine."

Stiles succeeds at that. His breathing starts to even out, eyes slipping shut. They sit together like that until Stiles' voice fills the silence.

"Wow," he breathes, "how do you werewolves do this?"

"It takes time. I"ll help you through the change."

Derek is stroking his hair; he leans down to kiss the top of Stiles' head.

"Promise?" Stiles asks.

"Promise." Derek assures. 

After what felt like hours, Stiles lifts his head off of Derek's chest.

"I'm glad you're here." He grabs Derek's hands. "I'm glad you saved me."

"Me too."

 


End file.
